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Inherent Vice Reviews

Really disliked this. Could barely follow it and found it dull and ugly to look at. Characters and situations were stupid. I hated the lead character, not interesting at all to carry a movie. Just one surreal situation after another relying on smut or drug reference to be "clever". I have liked this directors other films quite a lot, so this is really disappointing.

A private eye investigates his ex-girlfriend's boyfriend's disappearance.Coolly directed, Inherent Vice is the latest effort from Paul Thomas Anderson, and it is a strong, occasionally funny film. I spent most of my time watching it trying to make sure I didn't miss one of the film's many twists, attempting to avoid being side-tracked by one of Anderson's many tangential plotlines, and for the most part I was successful. The plot is certainly complex, but this isn't like Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy, which is complex for no apparent reason other than showing off its own cleverness. However, after all the machinations of plot and character, I wondered what the big deal was. While I enjoyed spending some time with Doc, Joaquin Phoenix's character, I couldn't say that he was truly memorable, nor did I think that Anderson's ability to convey Thomas Pynchon's novel teach me anything new about anything.Overall, while Inherent Vice is a good film, it's not revolutionary.

The plot is overlong, extremely intricate - convoluted would be the exact word - and has too many characters in it, but still this trippy private eye crime-comedy compensates for its flaws with a delicious, groovy '70s vibe, a great soundtrack and a hilarious dopehead humor.

Do you know that feeling of anticipation you get whenever a respected director is releasing a new film? It's the same feeling that often surrounds the released from Quentin Tarantino. Well, I also get that feeling when I hear of a new Paul Thomas Anderson project and I'm pretty certain many others do too. That being said, Anderson's last two introspective films There Will Be Blood and The Master took him much further away from his earlier vibrant works of Boogie Nights and Magnolia and left a number of his fans finding them too onerous. Many may not agree but if he was ever to bridge that gap then Inherent Vice is that bridge.

It's 1971 in Gordita Beach, California, where private eye, Larry "Doc" Sportello conducts his gumshoe business. He's approached, out of the blue, by his ex Shasta Fay Hepworth (Katherine Watertson) to search for her, recently vanished, new boyfriend and real-estate tycoon Mickey Wolfmann (Eric Roberts). Doc takes on the case but stumbles on a conspiracy that involves a whole host of corrupt characters and soon realises that things are certainly not as they seem.

Let's just begin by stating that Inherent Vice poses more questions than it actually answers. As a result, the film is downright perplexing - to say the least. The answers that can be found amidst it's dense cloud of cannabis smog are not easy to find and Anderson is in no mood to walk you through it either. In fact, during the opening scene where Doc is hired by his ex-girlfriend on a possible abduction case she wonders why he's not overly interested in the details, to which he responds "Don't worry. Thinking comes later". And indeed it does come later. So much so, that you begin to wonder if your bewilderment is a direct result of your own drug addled, misspent youth.

What's very important to note is that the confusion is entirely intentional and a lot of events are possibly taking place in Doc's head which (as our overhead commentary informs us) are also influenced by the astrological alignments with Jupiter and other planetary systems. Let's face it, Doc's a Hippie and if his head wasn't a little drug infused and mashed up then we'd be reaching our whodunit conclusion a lot easier and smoother - and the film would be a lot more dull as a result. This is what allows the story a creativity. All be it, a creativity that confuses the viewer. One minute he's watching two women getting it on at a massage parlour where you can purchase a pussy feast for $14.95 and the next he's, unsuspectingly, batted around the head only to wake up next to a dead body where the local police take an interest. The police interest takes shape in a hilarious turn from Josh Brolin's Lt. Det. "Bigfoot" Bjornsen who's described as an "old hippie-hating mad dog... SAG member, John Wayne walk, flat top of Flintstone proportions and that evil, little shit-twinkle in his eye that says Civil Rights Violations" - and he also seems to have some very expressive sexual urges that manifest in his eating of phallic, chocolate coated bananas.

By now, you'll have heard about the films mentioned in the same breath as Inherent Vice. It has an almost indecipherable plot like Howard Hawks' The Big Sleep; the same offbeat Hippie private-eye from Robert Altman's The Long Goodbye and the same pot-headed, labyrinthine confusion and humour of the Coen brothers' The Big Lebowski. I found the latter to hang heavily over Joaquin Phoenix's work. At times, it's hard to forget Jeff Bridges as Phoenix skilfully manages to channel his inner Dude and delivers a nuanced and, surprisingly, hysterical performance. None of the comparisons are inaccurate, however, as it's heavily influenced by them all, but Inherent Vice can admirably lay claim to carving it's own place among them.

Those well versed in Anderson's work will no doubt recognise his usual traits and ability to capture the times; in Boogie Nights you felt the fun-filled and erratic cocaine vibe of the 70's/80's disco scene. In Magnolia, you felt the burden and pain of dysfunctional families and relationships. In There Will Be Blood, you felt the weight of the depression and the greed of an oil baron. In The Master, you were transfixed by the cult and it's charismatic leader and here, in Inherent Vice, you feel the hazy marijuana comforting your head, making it lazy and hard to process even the smallest detail. Anderson himself, knew about the complexity of Thomas Pynchon's 384 page novel (of which he personally, and painstakingly, deciphered and adapted) and even worried that it would be criticised as "Incoherent Vice". There are numerous characters introduced, making it hard to work out who's who and plot strands drift off and go up in smoke quicker than Doc's joints. On a first viewing it can look like a mess but Shaun of the Dead director Edgar Wright summed it up nicely by calling it "Inherent Twice" as after reflexion and a (very much required) second viewing, Inherent Vice, is a wonderful piece of work. In all honesty, it would take quite a number of viewings to fully comprehend it and even then you'll realise that some plot strands are intended to be pointless. There's a level of surrealism in many scenes that it only reinforces our "patchouli fart" perception of events. All before Anderson abandons the sharp humour for a most intense and explosive denouement that's very impressively handled.

It's hard to talk about the plot of the film as a) it would delve into spoiler territory and b) it's just too fuckin' hard to talk about in the first place but there are so many positives from this film that's it's disappointing to hear that many have chosen to judge it too soon. Whether it be Incoherent Vice or Inherent Twice is entirely up to the viewer. I can side, somewhat, with the former but absolutely agree with the latter. If the film can be described in two words I'd use the words of Doc Sportello himself... "Right On!"

Dissapointing plunge into the mind of heady writer Thomas Pynchon. A muddled plot with no humorous nor dramatic interest, numb and uninspired performances. It hurts to watch how expectations crumble with each passing minute, I even dare to say this is Paul Thomas Anderson's worst film to this day, he can't find his own voice in this material, which is a real shame considering he was probably up to (as almost always) match his talents with his idol, the late great Robert Altman and his brilliant neo noir "The Long Goodbye".

Let me first start off by saying that I am not and will not ever be a die hard fan of Paul Thomas Anderson. His films really drive home many confusing undertones throughout them, and this film is no exception. "Inherent Vice" is about many things, a lot of which will require a second viewing to fully grasp. Paying full attention when I viewed this picture, I can truthfully say that I understood the film about half of the time, which is a very frustrating movie experience. Joaquin Phoenix is great as the leading man, as is every secondary character, but each film plays as a setup for the next and while you will be focussing on dialogue in scenes that reference scenes before that, you will eventually begin to get lost in the script. However, the dialogue in this film is extremely well-written, making for a very funny execution. I thoroughly enjoyed this film, but it is too off-beat to warrant any kind of recommendation unless you are a fan of this director's work. Overall, "Inherent Vice" is a stylish, yet overly plotty film that just didn't hit me as hard as I had hoped.

Few directors would have the guts to attempt to tackle the work of Thomas Pynchon. Even fewer directors would adapt his work somewhat successfully. Thankfully, a filmmaker by the name of Paul Thomas Anderson exists and he happens to be one of the boldest directors in the business; nothing phases him. I'll admit, a re-watch may allow me to fully grasp what lies beneath the surface of Anderson's perplexing, murky noir, and I see that as more of a testament to 'Inherent Vice' than a black mark against it. The world it creates is crazy but fully enticing, the cast are at the top of their game, the cinematography and score are, as with every Anderson film, absolutely stunning and funnily enough, it has odd emotional resonance despite the lack of a coherent storyline. Mad, mental, I know. But this is P.T. Anderson doing noir, I would've been disappointed with anything less.

This is one of the most difficult reviews I've ever had to write. It's not because I'm torn over the film; no, it's because this review will also serve as my break-up letter. Paul Thomas Anderson (PTA), we're just moving in two different directions. We met when we were both young and headstrong. I enjoyed your early works Paul, but then somewhere around There Will be Blood, things changed. You didn't seem like the PTA I had known to love. You became someone else, and your films represented this change, becoming plotless and laborious centerpieces on self-destructive men. Others raved to the heavens over Blood but it left me cold. Maybe I'm missing something, I thought. Maybe the problem is me. Maybe it's just a phase. Then in 2012 came The Master, a pretentious and ultimately futile exercise anchored by the wrong choice for a main character. When I saw the early advertisements for Inherent Vice I got my hopes up. It looked like a weird and silly throwback, a crime caper that didn't take itself so seriously. At last, I thought, my PTA has returned to me. After watching Inherent Vice, I can no longer deny the reality I have been ducking. My PTA is gone and he's not coming back. We'll always have Boogie Nights, Paul. It will still be one of my favorite films no matter what.

In the drug-fueled world of 1970 Los Angeles, stoner private eye Doc (Joaquin Phoenix) is visited by one of his ex-girlfriends, Shasta (Katherine Waterston). She's in a bad place. The man she's in love with, the wealthy real estate magnate Mickey Wolfmann (Eric Roberts) is going to be conned. Mickey's wife, and her boyfriend, is going to commit the guy to a mental hospital ward and take control of his empire. Then Shasta and Mickey go missing. Doc asks around, from his police detective contact named Bigfoot (Josh Brolin), to an ex (Reese Witherspoon) who happens to be in the L.A. justice department, to a junkie (Jena Malone) with a fancy set of fake teeth thanks to a coked-out dentist (Martin Short) who may be a front for an Asian heroin cartel. Or maybe not. As more and more strange characters come into orbit, Doc's life is placed in danger, and all he really wants to find out is whether his dear Shasta is safe or not.

Inherent Vice is a shaggy dog detective tale that is too long, too convoluted, too slow, too mumbly, too confusing, and not nearly funny or engaging enough. If it weren't for the enduring pain that was The Master, this would qualify as Anderson's worst picture.

One of my main complaints of Anderson's last two movies has been the paucity of a strong narrative, especially with the plodding Master. It almost felt like Anderson was, subconsciously or consciously, evening the scales from his plot-heavy early works. Being plotless is not a charge one can levy against Inherent Vice. There is a story here with plenty of subplots and intrigue. The problem is that it's almost never coherent, as if the audience is lost in the same pot haze as its loopy protagonist. The mystery barely develops before the movie starts heaping subplot upon subplot, each introducing more and more characters, before the audience has a chance to process. It's difficult to keep all the characters and their relationships straight, and then just when you think you have everything settled, the film provides even more work. The characters just feel like they're playing out in different movies (some I would prefer to be watching), with the occasional crossover. I literally gave up 45 minutes into the movie and accepted the fact that I'm not going to be able to follow it, so I might as well just watch and cope. This defeatist attitude did not enhance my viewing pleasure. The narrative is too cluttered with side characters and superfluous digressions.

The plot is overstuffed with characters, many of which will only appear for one sequence or even one scene, thus polluting a narrative already crammed to the seams with characters to keep track of. Did all of these characters need to be here and visited in such frequency? Doc makes for a fairly frustrating protagonist. He's got little personality to him and few opportunities to flesh him out. Not having read Thomas Pynchon's novel, I cannot say how complex the original character was that Anderson had to work with. Doc just seems like a placeholder for a character, a guy who bumbles about with a microphone, asking others questions and slowly unraveling a convoluted conspiracy. He's more a figure to open other characters up than a character himself. The obvious comparison to the film and the protagonist is The Big Lebowski, a Coen brothers film I'm not even that fond over. However, with Lebowski, the Coens gave us memorable characters that separated themselves from the pack. The main character had a definite personality even if he was drunk or stoned for most of the film. Except for Short's wonderfully debased and wily five minutes onscreen, every character just kind of washes in and out of your memory, only registering because of a famous face portraying him or her. Even in the closing minutes, the film is still introducing vital characters. The unnecessary narration by musician Joanna Newsome is also dripping with pretense.

Another key factor that limits coherency is the fact that every damn character mumbles almost entirely through the entirety of the movie. And that entirety, by the way, is almost two and a half hours, a running time too long by at least 30 minutes, especially when Doc's central mystery of what happened to Shasta is over before the two-hour mark. For whatever reason, it seems that Anderson has given an edict that no actor on set can talk above a certain decibel level or enunciate that clearly. This is a film that almost requires a subtitle feature. There are so many hushed or mumbled conversations, making it even harder to keep up with the convoluted narrative. Anderson's camerawork can complicate the matter as well. Throughout the film, he'll position his characters speaking and slowly, always so slowly, zoom in on them, as if we're eavesdropping. David Fincher did something similar with his sound design on Social Network, amping up the ambient noise to force the audience to tune their ears and pay closer attention. However, he had Aaron Sorkin's words to work with, which were quite worth our attention. With Inherent Vice, the characters talk in circles, tangents, and limp jokes. After a protracted setup, and listening to one superficially kooky character after another, you come to terms with the fact that while difficult to follow and hear, you're probably not missing much.

Obviously, Inherent Vice is one detective mystery where the answers matter less than the journey and the various characters that emerge, but I just didn't care, period. It started too slow, building a hazy atmosphere that just couldn't sustain this amount of prolonged bloat and an overload of characters. Anderson needed to prune Pynchon's novel further. What appears onscreen is just too difficult to follow along, and, more importantly, not engaging enough to justify the effort. The characters fall into this nether region between realism and broadly comic, which just makes them sort of unrealistic yet not funny enough. The story rambles and rambles, set to twee narration that feels like Newsome is just reading from the book, like Anderson could just not part with a handful of prose passages in his translation. Much like The Master, I know there will be champions of this movie, but I won't be able to understand them. This isn't a zany Chinatown meets Lewboswki. This isn't some grand throwback to 1970s cinema. This isn't even much in the way of a comedy, so be forewarned. Inherent Vice is the realization for me that the Paul Thomas Anderson I fell in love with is not coming back. And that's okay. He's allowed to peruse other movies just as I'm allowed to see other directors. I wish him well.

In "Inherent Vice," Doc Sportello(Joaquin Phoenix), an occasional private detective, currently and usually in a drug addled haze, gets a visitation from his ex-girlfriend Shasta(Katherine Waterston). She is there to warn him about a nefarious plot aimed at a real estate developer. After checking in with his current girlfriend and ADA, Penny(Reese Witherspoon), Doc follows the leads to a massage parlor where he is knocked senseless. Waking up next to a dead body, he finds he has some explaining to do to Lieutenant Bigfoot(Josh Brolin) of the LAPD.

I would never argue with somebody who said that Paul Thomas Anderson is currently the best of American filmmakers. But at the same time, he has a tendency to over stuff his movies with both details and actors. Some times, it really works in creating a specific milieu(Boogie Nights), while other times it can be a rather bruising affair(Magnolia). Sadly, his latest, "Inherent Vice," lies in the later category, as Anderson replicates too closely the feeling of being stoned, just as the whole selective reality thing would probably work much better on the page. That's with a story and accompanying mystery that are so shaggy they come with fleas. All of which is set at a time when Nixon and Reagan were conspiring to ruin everybody's high and the fascist LAPD was trying to rewrite reality through television.

Writer-Director Paul Thomas Anderson has long been compared to the late great Robert Altman. Often employing large casts, overlapping dialogue and well-chosen music, the comparison is apt, with his incendiary BOOGIE NIGHTS feeling like NASHVILLE with 20% more orgasms. Now Anderson brings us the first adaptation of a Thomas Pynchon novel, INHERENT VICE, a dense 1970-era noir, and its homage to Altman's THE LONG GOODBYE is readily apparent. Unfortunately, it's terrible, whereas Altman's film is a loopy classic.

While I appreciate the attempt, and there are some delights on the fringes of the film, this is one 2 1/2 hour long slog. Joaquin Phoenix plays Doc Sportello, a perpetually stoned private eye who has been nursing hurt feelings in his beach bungalow, when a dewy, gorgeous ex of his (Katherine Waterston, daughter to Sam, is perfect, touching and lovely as Shasta) shows up needing his help. She's in love with a real estate magnate whose ex-wife wants him committed to a mental institution so she can make off with his millions. On paper this sounds like an adequate hook for a story which will take us through many twists and turns to reveal an insidious CHINATOWN-like sea of corruption. Sadly, the rhythms of the film feel off from the very start. Mirroring Doc's blessed out vibe yet gorgeously shot with a honey-soaked, sun-dappled sheen by the very talented Robert Elswit (he's having a great year with this and NIGHCRAWLER), Anderson honors his main character while boring the hell out of his audience. You just want to shake this film and say, "If I dump some cold water on you, will you PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE wake the f*ck up?!!"

Now don't get me wrong, the movie has its charms. Phoenix is pretty spectacular as a burned out hippie who's realizing that the Nixon era is about to wipe out the Summer of Love bliss. He ambles from scene to scene, meeting up with a huge cast of suspects and informants, shuffling along in his sandals, or worse, his dirty bare feet. Much smarter than he appears, and his appearance includes mutton chops and hair so scraggly, I'm pretty sure I saw the word, "SCRAGGLY" written in it somehow, the best parts of the film are the times where he surprises us with lucid, coherent thoughts. From Reese Witherspoon's uptight Deputy D.A. to Martin Short's insane, coke snorting dentist, this is a dream cast trapped in a dirge. Josh Brolin is the embodiment of pent-up anger and torment as the police detective known as Bigfoot. What this crew-cut Republican does with a chocolate covered banana, and Phoenix's priceless reaction to is, is almost worth the price of admission.

In fact, as I said, there are pleasures to be had. A scene in a Massage Parlor is downright hilarious as the proprietor acts out the daily special right in front of Doc. Also, there's built-in fun watching a guy who's high try to make his way out of a life-threatening situation. A sequence in which Doc and Shasta run barefoot in the rain is indelible. I even liked the overall concept, showing us how a counterculture surrendered to an oppressive administration with the one-two punch of the war in Vietnam raging and Watergate on the horizon. Still, these delights play as random asides, small pleasures, or little dashes of spice in an attempt to make the main course less of a chore to digest. Bottom line? I just didn't care what I was watching and I REALLY wanted it to end.

This is tough to write, as I have a lot of respect and admiration for Anderson. He's no cookie cutter filmmaker. Many scenes are played out where characters speak for a while off camera before being revealed. He doesn't spell everything out for you, and in this era of dumbed-down, lowest common denominator studio fare, that's not only welcome, but it's an act of true bravery. He tackles big subjects and wraps them in truly colorful surroundings. He's also rarely in a hurry to tell a story, with most of his films being leisurely, to put it kindly. If only he could go back to remembering there are people sitting in an audience watching, like he did with BOOGIE NIGHTS, then I think Anderson will achieve the Robert Altman-esque career he certainly deserves.

Inherent-ly muddled, Paul Thomas Anderson's roll of the Vice satisfies Thomas Pynchon fans and few others. Of course, this was the point. On the Penguin Press website, the publisher teases a work that's "Part-noir, part-psychedelic romp, all Thomas Pynchon...private eye Doc Sportello comes, occasionally, out of a marijuana haze to watch the end of an era as free love slips away and paranoia creeps in with the L.A. fog." So far as realizing this specific vision, one of this generation's most gifted auteurs succeeds to a startlingly perfect 5-Star degree. For filmgoers in general though, especially those who qualified as square in the 60s or weren't even born yet, Inherent Vice proves only mildly entertaining. In fact, the film tends to get downright boring at points. If Raymond Chandler helped to hard-boil detective fiction through his character Phillip Marlowe in the 40s and Robert Altman somehow satirized and elevated the genre at the same time with the idiosyncratic Me Generation film classic The Long Goodbye in the 70s, then Inherent Vice continues this tradition and takes the detective story to the next level--we just don't know what or where that is. Purposely meandering and muddied with sudden Spartan moments of crystal-clear clarity, much like a drug trip and/or a lost soul trying to find their place in a changing culture and society, the story proudly sports a Byzantine plot navigated by a stoner. We get it. Most of us just don't enjoy it.

In this 1970s-set R-rated dramedy based on the novel by the author of V and Gravity's Rainbow, detective Larry "Doc" Sportello (Joaquin Phoenix) investigates the disappearance of a former girlfriend through a drug-fueled Los Angeles.

Oh, like all of Anderson's films, it's always interesting. The director's telltale stylistic touches pop up to mostly great effect. Working against type, an amazing cast brings some wild characters to life. His long takes, however, actually feel long for a change. Even after weaving toward the solution, only one thing remains certain about Inherent Vice: It assumes the title of Most Divisive film on Anderson's resume from Punch-Drunk Love.

Despite what's been suggested the plot isn't that hard to follow, however it really doesn't matter . . . Anderson is trying to invoke a mood not tell a coherent story. It's best to let it all wash over you otherwise you're bound to be frustrated.

I don't know much about the source material, but P.T. Anderson seems to have thrown Joaquin Phoenix into a big cloud of hazy smoke for two and a half hours. That also double as a metaphor for the plot.

There is lots of wandering. There is lots of confusion. This is a definite stoner/hippie conglomerate of crime, kidnapping and comedy. Phoenix pulls off a pretty spectacular PI detective who's always on some type of drug as he tries to comb through a handful of detective threads that all seem connected to one big storyline. Some of them don't really get finished. It's mostly because you're left wondering who some of these characters really are after their brief introductions or little five-minute cameos. I was actually surprised at the number of non-traditional actors used in this (Belladonna the porn star and Keith Jardine the MMA fighter) who got ample screen time with legit dialogue.

It wasn't necessarily as out of this world as a "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas" stoner flick or as funny as a "Pineapple Express", but there were definitely some scoffs and chuckles at the absurdity of some of the things that took pace.

If you've got a few hours to sit through a premier filmmaker's romp through the end of the drug age, albeit somewhat boring through the first hour, there's no reason to not appreciate another transfer of book to screen take.

Anderson tried to do the very impossible task of a adapting a Pynchon novel. If there are unfilmable books, they are his. Just try reading V. and you'll know what I mean. Inherent Vice is Pynchon light though. It's his most scripted book and the easiest to follow that doesn't try to juggle 1234907 different things at once. Good man Anderson did a fine job with it, it's as faithful as it can get and while I was watching it, every scene popped up in my head exactly as I imagined it in the book.

But as a movie, this suffers from The Counsellor issue. It's pretty much jumping from one dialogue filled scene into another, with an intricate narrative that will leave most viewers frustrated. However, the conclusion was superbly handled and every confusing "case" gets solved remarkably well.

A worthy addition to Anderson's filmography, but one where he hasn't risked much to be honest, on his desire to respect one of the best writers alive.

A psychedelic dark-comedy with a slight hint of noir! That is the best way I can describe Inherent Vice! But, it could have easily been called Incoherent Vice! I felt as if I were watching someone who had been on a 4-year bender, recount to the best of their knowledge. The misadventures of a Hippie Private Investigator and the sordid characters he came across whilst on an investigation into the disappearance of two high-profile community members, one of whom just happened to be his ex-girlfriend.

Despite the lack of coherent plot points and a few unnecessarily long scenes. Inherent Vice is easily one of the funniest and dare I say charming films to come out last year. This cast is perfect and is led very charismatically by Joaquin Phoenix, who really is one of the only reasons anyone should go see this film. A nice collection of A-List stars make brief appearances throughout the movie as well, each bringing their only little quirks and charms to the story.

I liked it! But, the way the overall story was told just went over my head. I certainly wouldn't mind re-watching this to see if it fares better with repeated viewings.

Paul Thomas Anderson's latest is enthralling, confusing, jumbled, frustrating, and hilarious. As you watch it, you may get the sense you are trying really hard to pay attention to something but can't because you're high. In other words, it's the perfect way to tell the story of Doc Sportello, a private eye who also seemed to miss the memo that hippies are out and Nixon is in. Joaquin Phoenix is absolutely masterful as Doc, who exists in a perpetual purple haze, bumbling his way from misadventure to misadventure as he attempts to unravel the mystery of a plot to throw his "ex-old lady's" land developer boyfriend into a looney bin. On the way, he reacts as we do - confused, overwhelmed, inquisitive - to Jenna Malone's junkie searching for her missing husband Owen Wilson; Martin Short's drug-addled pedophile dentist; Josh Brolin's buzz-cut-wearing cop; and the unending pileup of characters that ensues. It's a hot mess, but immensely watchable (particularly Brolin), and PTA has never been interested in making straightforward movies. In this, he's also straitjacketed for the first time to another artist's style, and although I have not read any Thomas Pynchon (this has persuaded me), one gets the sense that it's a perfect marriage of director and author. With "The Master," Anderson moved further than ever away from conventional narrative. "Inherent Vice" sees him abandon it almost entirely, an unbelievably risky move that hopefully garners enough support for him to keep doing his thing.